Opening in the Closet
by xBDMx
Summary: Both Earth and the Dark Realms collide after a fateful ritual. Takes place after Queen of the Darkness. Romance comes later. Rated T to be safe. DISCONTINUED WITH THE POSSIBILITY OF CONTINUING LATER! I have to finish the series.
1. The First Ritual

**I own nothing from the Black Jewels Trilogy. Set after "Queen of the Darkness".**

Jaenelle Angelline scowled at Daemon and Lucivar before finally plopping down on her bed. "It's only been the first day. Graysfang needs my help. Surreal could be in trouble!" She huffed out a breath and started to feel a wash of hopelessness of ever getting out of the bedroom. Both brothers exchanged looks before Daemon finally cleared his throat.

"Sweetheart," he said, "Surreal is out today for another reason that she didn't even tell Graysfang about."

Jaenelle frowned and stood again, pacing a little. "Why?" she finally asked. "What could she be so afraid of telling me? We're sisters, right? She should have told me!" Jaenelle started to twirl the wedding band Daemon had given her on her finger with her thumb. It was a habit she had developed instead of fluffing her hair when she was thinking.

Lucivar finally sighed. "Cat, someone said they saw her coming out of a Red Moon house last weekend." Lucivar had even questioned her about it. The honest answer _Yes_ had not only startled him, but it made him wonder what Surreal was really up to. All of the males in the house had at least a little bit of respect for her mainly because she make a living off of being an assassin. Still, after the blood had been purged, not many of the bad were left. Surreal was out of work.

Still, Surreal had sworn to never go back to a Red Moon house after signing the contract to be in Lucivar's court in Ebon Rhi. Jaenelle started to pace even faster.

The three of them hadn't told Saetan yet, and none of them were eager to. It was a difficult situation that, for once, none of them knew how to fix...

Surreal looked at Cassandra and winced. "Are you absolutely sure?" she asked. "Opening this new realm you think you saw in a web made by Tersa is... difficult to imagine. And why am I even a part of this, but not Jaenelle, Lucivar, Daemon, or Saetan?"  
>Cassandra blew out a breath. "For the last time," she snapped, "I don't even know how this may work out. All I know is that telling them before it's official is a waste of my time. If it turns out to be nothing, we don't have to get them involved." Surreal glared at Cassandra.<p>

"In all reality," Surreal started, "You just want control over this discovery. You want to be the one to find it and form it yourself. You"-

"STOP!" Cassandra snapped again. A wash of dark power started to fill and thicken the air Surreal was breathing in. Cassandra, once again, was pissed that people could dissect her so easily.

"Whatever," Surreal finally said. "From where I'm standing, sugar, you just need me for protection." Cassandra nodded at that. That was something both of them could be honest about.

Cassandra started getting the altar ready, moving the candles in a certain pattern. She picked up a sharp edged knife meant for these rituals. Surreal hadn't seen this before, and, according to Cassandra, this was normally way off about how most of the other rituals are done.

There was a piece of parchment with the Old Tongue scribbled all over it. Surreal couldn't make heads or tails of it, but the web that Cassandra received from Tersa had shown a translation. It didn't matter what language, but what mattered was just opening this one portal...

There was a loud sound that sounded like protesting animals and children in one vicious scream. Power that came from Cassandra and some hidden reservoir that didn't belong to any of them pressed against both females long enough to make Surreal collapse onto her knees. Cassandra stood there, still chanting, her hands raised just enough to cover her face from any objects that may fly at them. A small point of intense light about the size of a pin shot through the stone of the altar. It slowly started to move and grow into a square of light. Then, as the sound and power died down, the square in the altar disappeared. Nothing was there anymore. Just a missing chunk of stone and a black depth.

Cassandra stopped and looked at the parchment. Nothing else could have been done.

"Now can I tell them?" Surreal asked, calling in her stiletto. "What if this is dangerous? What if we just unleashed some unknown curse onto the land!"

Cassandra snarled at her. "Don't you think I considered that! I think too, you know!" Both females glared at each other until Surreal finally moved to the square in the altar. It was just big enough for someone to fit through unless they were incredibly overweight. Surreal took hold of the sides.

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked.

"What does it look like, sugar? I'll check to see if there's something I should kill..." A force pushed it's way through the square and blew Surreal back into the wall across from the altar. When Surreal looked up to see what could have shoved her back so far and she saw a fist. It was a small pale fist that looked scarred and damaged with white bandaging around the knuckles. Surreal stood and ran to grab the fist, yanking hard...

Malory Detters threw her backpack onto her bed and sobbed long and hard into her pillow. Today had been particularly rough, but this time it wasn't her fault. _No one believed her_. There were witnesses saying it wasn't her fault. _No one believed her._ Her parents and even her caseworker stood up for her. _No. One. Fucking. Believed. Her._ Malory let out another shriek and pounded another bandaged fist into the wall, watching as her fist went straight through it. This wasn't unusual. She punched quite a few holes in her walls when she was this upset.

She heard a bang on her door before her older brother barged in. Peter Detters wasn't handsome. He was gorgeous, and Malory envied his social abilities in life. She loved him to death, but it was heartbreaking to watch him make friends and find an amazing girlfriend who didn't mind her while Malory just fought her way through high school. Peter was also her twin brother, older by a mere hour.

Both of them had the same narrowed, bold eyes that were on their mother's side, and both of them had curly brown hair like their father. Both of them also had small noses, sharp features that made each seem mischievous, and incredibly short hair. Malory's was short for another reason, though. Getting her hair pulled during a fight was a painful experience.

"I heard," Peter said, grabbing his sister and wrapping his arms around her. Malory hugged him back and stopped crying. Pride kept her from crying in front of others.

"Whatever. I didn't even do anything. They can just hate me for a while and be done with it. If Lisa hadn't just kept her mouth shut then"-

"Then what?" Peter asked. "Lisa was never your friend. She had come up to you, got in your face, and you did nothing. When she hit you first, you still didn't do nothing. When she made that cheap shot... let me see your shoulder."

Malory was stabbed with a pencil. It wasn't so deep that the doctor was concerned, but he gave her a total of nine stitches and bandaged the small hole. Malory winced as Peter gently massaged it.

"I'm just hanging in my room for a while," Malory said. "I'm not in trouble with mom and dad, so I can close my door. Don't tell them about the hole?"

Peter grinned and pointed to it. "This is why your hands are so scarred, sis." He rubbed her bandaged knuckles gently. "Keep it careful, okay? You don't want to hit something too hard like last time and get more." Malory snorted before grinning and gently ushering him out of her room.

Yes, ever since Malory's little sister, Elaine, had died because some bastard had raped and beaten her to death, Malory had lost trust in everyone. When everyone said they were sorry, they were secretly muttering behind her back how mixed up Malory was. They were always looking at her like they were expecting her to explode into a juvenile delinquent. That was mainly because the bastard who raped and killed Elaine was Malory's and Peter's uncle, Rex.

Still, Malory and Peter were all for letting Elaine spend a summer with their uncle while their parents were settling their divorce. They couldn't understand the looks of accusation and fear Elaine had, so they just assumed she was unstable because of their parents. When they went to go get Elaine after the divorce was final, she was so broken up, the doctors discharged her and told the family to make her comfortable before she died. And that was how Elaine died. Comfortable. And Malory made sure of it.

Afterward, Malory lost all of her friends. She had become obsessed with blaming herself, but no one knew that. They just thought Malory needed attention after the death and the divorce. They didn't understand that Malory was punishing herself by becoming involved with so many street fights and school fights. Every hit was a hit Malory was taking as a debt to her sister.

And today wasn't even her fault.

She picked up her backpack and threw it into her open closet door, making sure it hit the wall as hard as possible. She didn't realize it was break through. When light filtered in through the hole, she assumed that it was because she had tossed it into another room or out of her house. She didn't know her own strength.

Malory stared at her bandaged and scarred knuckles and hands before running to look out the hole. Just as she stuck her head inside, it was utterly dark. It wasn't a normal dark, either, with light coming from somewhere else. It was pitch black. She heard a voice coming across from her, speaking a weird language. In a panic, Malory did the only thing she knew how to do. She jumped inside the hole in her wall and punched as hard as she could in the direction of the voice.

Her fist was in hair after making contact with a torso. Then, as she was about to retract her fist, she was yanked inside the black hole and out the other end.

Surreal looked at the terrified girl. She noted the strange outfit she had one. The dark blue material that looked like pants and the shirt that stopped the sleeves just after her shoulders. It was completely white. The girl's hair was even more fascinating to her. She kept her stiletto ready and squeezed the girl's fist gently.

"Who are you?" Cassandra asked. The girl stopped glaring for a minute to look completely confused. She said something, but neither of them could understand it. Cassandra took the girl's other wrist and both females started to drag her into Cassandra's sitting area. "Who are you?" Cassandra asked again.

Again the girl said something strange while her eyes narrowed. She seemed frustrated, and she finally started to struggle to get free. Surreal dangled her knife in front of the girl before holding it firm in her hands. The girl's eyes widened, and she stopped struggling. She knew that sooner or later Jaenelle could kick her ass for that.

Cassandra plopped the girl down in a kitchen chair. "Keep an eye on her," Cassandra said. "I'm going to get Tersa. Maybe she can"-

"Just get Jaenelle! Stalling is going to get me pissed enough to gut you." Both females glared at each other before Cassandra nodded.

Then she was gone. Surreal stared at the girl and kept her stiletto in her hand. She didn't bother to vanish it. Not yet. A howl in the distance made her yelp, though.

"Shit, Graysfang," she muttered as the gray wolf bounded through the door and skidded to a stop in front of the girl. The girl looked at the wolf curiously before extending her hand for him to sniff. Graysfang sniffed the girl's hand and started to wag his tail. He yelped happily as the girl scratched him behind his ears.

-She's nice to me,- he told Surreal. Surreal could have sworn that was a grin on Graysfang's face.

"Whatever," Surreal muttered. She kept her eyes on the girl before a very dark, irritated presence swamped the kitchen. Jaenelle, looking very irritated and in some pain, stood in the doorway. Lucivar was on one side of her, and Daemon was on the other. Surreal paled a little. "Shit," she muttered, catching the scent. "Moon's blood?"

Jaenelle looked at Surreal for a minute and sighed. "They've already fussed over me all day. Please, no more. I'm done with it." Judging by the cowed looks both males had, Surreal was sure they were beat by Jaenelle this time.

Now Jaenelle sat by this girl in a chair at the table. Cassandra came back into the kitchen to stand in a corner and observe.

"Who are you?" Jaenelle asked. The girl glared at her and started to sputter and mutter angrily.

"What the hell are you saying! For Christ's sake! Let me go back home before my caseworker comes and kills me because I'm already in deep shit! Who do you guys think you are anyway? Just trapping a little girl here who has"- Jaenelle cleared her throat to cut the girl off.

"I apologize," Jaenelle said in the Old Tongue. Cassandra, Surreal, and both males stared at her, eyes wide and jaws dropped. "I didn't realize you spoke the Old Tongue as a first language. I'm Jaenelle Angelline. Who are you?"

The girl gulped, feeling slightly awkward. "I'm Malory. Can I go home now?" she asked, feeling the panic and the need to fight rise up in her chest. "I just want to go home. I need to go home. Peter will freak out."

"Who is Peter?" Jaenelle asked. "Where do you come from?"

The girl looked completely baffled. "Peter's my brother. I'm from Kearney."

Now both girls looked at each other, confused and slightly curious. Still, something about this girl put Malory on edge in a completely defensive sort of way. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you sick?" Malory finally asked.

Jaenelle looked completely shocked. "I'm fine," she said.

"Then why do you seem sick to me? Like you should be resting or something..." Malory stood up and started to pace angrily across the room. "This is stupid. I need to get home."

"How did you get here?" Jaenelle asked. Malory cast a glance in the direction they'd come from. The dark square she was yanked through. Then a sudden thought flashed through her head that had her bolting through the room and back toward the altar. "My backpack!"

Jaenelle was up and following her, and, as if given a cue, the other males followed after. Surreal was after them, but Cassandra stayed behind, puzzling out how this little girl knew so much of the Old Tongue.

The group ended up by the square in the altar. Malory didn't hesitate to dive in and stumble around in the dark until she tripped over something. She let out a stream of curses before picking up her backpack. A small light ripped it's way through the darkness, coming from Jaenelle's hand. It was as if a small fire was stuck in a bubble and was crackling there out of nowhere.

"Did you find your... backpack?" Jaenelle ask. She'd never quite said that word before, and she enjoyed learning it so much. Malory nodded.

"Thank you. I came through here. I need to go back. Good-bye," Malory said, planning to never go back to this world.

Jaenelle left the dark square and stood calmly in front of Cassandra. "Were you planning to tell me about this?" She asked.

Cassandra shook her head no.

"Then, now that I know, I'm going to tell Papa so he can alert the guard. I need a door put on this. I'll lock it with locks myself so I know no one can get through. Daemon, would you also shield this entry until we can cover it?"

Daemon stepped forward to do just that. "Let's go home sweetheart," he said, grabbing her and taking the winds to their home. Lucivar looked at Surreal and Cassandra before shaking his head and taking off. Left with each other, the two females simply glared at each other.

"See what you did," Cassandra muttered. "You get them involved, and then I lose all hope of keeping this from becoming a problem."

"From where I'm standing, that's probably a good thing," Surreal stated simply before taking the winds to her own home.

Malory stood in her closet, covering the hole there with an old painting she'd made of Elaine. It was important to keep it there. She couldn't cover it up quiet yet. Maybe her brother would actually help with this... No. Peter would probably think she was crazy before he helped her. He would say they were both crazy. Malory flung her backpack into a corner in her closet, careful to keep her strength down on the swing. She watched it thump harmlessly to the floor.

Out of sheer curiosity, she nudged the painting aside again, looking at the hole. She covered it back up when she heard a thumping at her door.

"Honey," her mom said. "Maria's here. She wants to talk to you about the hearing!"

Malory winced and went to go deal with her caseworker.


	2. The Second Ritual

**I own nothing from the Trilogy**

**Back in the Realms**

Jaenelle puzzled over the girl after she left. She puzzled all the way through her Moon's blood time, and she puzzled even more until Daemon was going to go crazy. He stood behind Jaenelle while she puzzled in a chair and started to massage her neck and shoulders gently. Jaenelle relaxed into the touch, feeling slightly frustrated. She could almost read Daemon's thoughts without having to actually _read_ his thoughts.

"I just don't get it," she admitted. "This girl spoke the Old Tongue like it was a first language. She doesn't have any power, and she's certainly not blood! Yet she displays the attitude of an Eiryan when she isn't completely confused. Then again, this place isn't exactly clear and simple." Jaenelle shook her head and took hold of one of Daemon's hand, kissing the palm gently. "I need to stop thinking about this," Jaenelle muttered. "Yet, this girl, she said her name was Malory, she had something weird about her. It's almost familiar..."

Daemon kissed Jaenelle's neck and picked her up in his arms. "You're tired," he said simply. He lay her down gently on the bed and then snuggled up next to her. "You should probably rest and find something else to think about."

"Like what?" Jaenelle snapped, somewhat frustrated. "How safe the realms should be now? What the hell is Surreal up to? Lucivar caught her coming out of another Red Moon house you know. It's just so... frustrating!" With a huff of breath, Jaenelle snuggled into Daemon's embrace further. Over the past ten years, the two had calmed down a little. No longer were the nights long and passionate and lusty, but there was still much love between the two. Daemon brushed a lock of Jaenelle's hair out of her face.

"Don't stress yourself, love," he sighed, rubbing her back gently. "I'm sure you'll get an answer soon."

**Back on Earth**

Malory stood awkwardly at the end of the hallway in her school. She'd been suspended for a week by simply reacting. That was it. Now she was back and she couldn't cross one hallway without whispers and staring from some other student. No, Malory currently didn't have many friends. She crossed this hallway now and felt utterly alone and stupid and awkward and like she wanted to hit someone. As usual. One female was bold enough to point and laugh, but Malory didn't do anything about it. She just glared and kept walking. Once she was at the end of the hallway, she spotted a familiar face, incredibly relieved.

Abbigale Smith was an incredibly plain female. She had plain brown hair that had darker brown streaks in them, her eyes were a bland shade of hazel, and she had a splatter of freckles on her nose and cheeks. She also was very plain in form. She was so average, no one would have guessed and she and Malory were common sparing partners when both were incredibly frustrated. Abbi didn't bother to look up when Malory took a seat beside her in the Calculus classroom. If those two were any good at anything academically, it was math.

"Heard about what happened with Lisa. Bitch," she muttered under her breath. "You should have told me. The difference between us is that I've never been caught." Under the cursing and insulting, Malory could tell Abbi was concerned and pissed that Malory hadn't confided in her. In a way to make it up, Malory punched Abbi roughly in the arm.

"Sparing at my house today? I might let you win this time," Malory said, a wicked grin on her face.

"Let me? Last I checked I can kick your ass fair and square," Abbi replied, a grin just as wicked forming on her own face.

And all was forgiven. Both girls had almost the exact same schedule, but each had a different class before and after lunch. While Malory was busy taking her frustration out in PE before lunch and then playing guitar during her free period after lunch, Abbi was busy having her FCS classes both times. Another sharp difference between the two was that Abbi was made to cook and clean and be the best soccer mom ever. Malory would probably never be a mother. Malory would never bring a child into such a strange and hurtful world because Malory knew she'd never protect them. Together, though, both of them made one hell of a duo. They seemed to get things done together, and they'd been best friends ever since Abbi knocked Malory off the swing during Preschool. They had hardly separated ever since.

While they powered through their school day, Malory and Abbi made plans to hang out over at Malory's house and Abbi would just stay the night.

By the end of the school day, both girls had calmed down considerably, but both were still planning on sparring. It kept both of them from losing their tempers on anything else, and each of them simply enjoyed it. While they got their things from their shared locker, Abbi blinked and looked at Malory's hand. It was bruised over the knuckles from when she punched another hole in her wall. Abbi grabbed the girl's wrist and examined the bruises.

"And you want to spar like this?" Abbi asked, eyebrows raised delicately.

Malory huffed out a breath. "Yes. Is that too hard? I've had my knuckles in worse condition and you know it." Both girls exchanged looks.

The heavy scarring on her hands and knuckles was from punching walls, trees, bricks, and other things when Malory could just no longer hold her temper. She'd also had both hands shoved away and into sharp objects so someone could make a clear shot during a street fight. Either way, the scars were plenty, and her hands had almost no feeling because of them. Abbi sighed and massaged the knuckle that was bruised. Malory didn't even wince when Abbi pressed hard. Both girls left and walked over to Malory's while Abbi kept massaging until the bruise had less swelling in it.

**Back to the Ralms**

Lucivar examined the door and tried to budge it. Somehow, someone used Craft to keep it from moving. _Must have been Daemon_ Lucivar though, wondering how Daemon had learned the spell. It wasn't as if the door had Black locks on it, but it just simply didn't move. He assumed Jaenelle had taught him before turning and looked back at Daemonar.

Daemonar had started growing. He wasn't really a child anymore. Still, he was only 14. He was so young... Lucivar put the thought aside. Daemonar was also an Eyrien. He was a born warrior too, receiving training from Andulvar and Prothvar and other first circle males on how to fight. He had only started a couple of years ago. With a grim smile, Lucivar pointed to the door.

"Your mother didn't want me to tell you this, but this door is here. Do you know where it leads to?" he asked.

"No," Daemonar said, sniffing.

"Good. I don't either. Stay out of it until I have time to explore it. Understand?" If Lucivar hadn't told him about it, Daemonar would have found out some other way. Daemonar nodded and both left the door alone.

**Back to Earth**

Malory threw popcorn at Abbi and laughed hard. Her sides had started to hurt.

"No!" Abbi gasped. "I'm serious! After my Cooking II class, they called Lisa to the office and there was an officer there. He looked so pissed that he was picking his own _daughter_!"

Malory looked stunned, but she had a grim satisfaction in the fact that Lisa was busted by her own dad. "Good to see she's getting a piece of my crap too," Malory muttered, touching her bandages thoughtfully. It was a habit that made her think of all of the fighting and crap she was in now. Abbi shook her head and _tsked_.

"Shame on you for wishing ill will," she said. Malory was used to that speech. Despite Abbi's love for fighting too, she was one of those that didn't believe in holding grudges. Malory always held a grudge, so this wasn't an uncommon lecture.

"Sure... mom," she said. She snickered when Abbi aimed another piece of popcorn and missed. The movie they had been watching started rolling through the credits, and Abbi yawned. The two girls looked at the clock. It glared 1:36 AM at them as if to say they needed some sleep. Abbi plopped down on Malory's bed and closed her eyes, asleep in minutes. Malory was a little slower. She also started to panic a little When she'd been left alone for too long, she started thinking about what was behind the picture in her closet again.

After coming home during the incident that made the hole in the wall of her closet, she had left it alone for two days. Then curiosity drove her to look again. She didn't expect the hole to still be there. In fact, she was surprised it just wasn't some strange dream. After a while, Malory found herself consumed with the thought of what could be there. She peeked over at her sleeping friend. Finding Abbi snoring lightly in her bed, Malory packed her backpack with a notebook, some pencils, some money she had saved, and a knife she had hidden a long time ago. After thinking about it, she slipped the knife in her pocket. She didn't know how fast she may need it. She exchanged the dirty old bandages on her fists for cleaner ones, wrapping her fingers individually so she could still use her hands. After doing this for years, she was an expert.

She took a moment to just examine her closet. No one had come through to her side. She ran a hand through her short, curly hair before grabbing a baseball cap and covering her hair. She changed from pajamas into a pair of long jeans and a heavy sweatshirt that made her already small chest look nonexistent. Ready, she opened her closet door and slid behind the picture and into the hole.

It was dark. She left the hole long enough to grab her old, cheap flashlight and some extra batteries. This time when she went back in, she turned on the flashlight and lockated where she though she'd gone last time. There was only a door, and it was covering the only other entrance she could see.

With no other choice, she went to the door and looked at the lock on it. It seemed easy to pick. She looked in her backpack and took out a skinny mechanical pencil. There was a metal clip that held it to a pocket or whatever. She bent the metal until it broke and started to use the small piece to pick the lock. It was simple. After that, she turned the nob and opened the door, stumbling back into the other world.

She ducked her head under her baseball cap and left the door open behind her. Then she tip-toed into what she assumed was a kitchen the last time she was here. She spotted that the woman who had been there last time, the one without the knife, was in a room humming. Keeping her footsteps as light as possible, she tried to sneak to the other door at the end of the kitchen, planning to explore herself.

Her footsteps might not have been light enough. The woman was on her in a minute, looking confused and panicked.

She said something and gestured to a chair again. The language was so baffling. She'd never heard it before. The woman gestured to the chair again before leaving the room.

Malory took a second to debate on running. She looked back at the door and at the chair. Instead of heading out, she sat down in the chair and waited again for the only girl who could talk to her.

Jaenelle burst into Cassandra's home, looking winded. She had a very tired, irritated looking Daemon beside her. They had apparently both been sleeping since Jaenelle's hair looked messy, and Daemon was definitely cranky.

"Where is she?" she asked Cassandra.

Cassandra pointed to her kitchen and said, "In a chair, hopefully. I left her alone so I could alert you."

"You left her alone?" Jaenelle hissed, looking deadly. Her hands curled into tight little fists before she just shuffled into the kitchen. She looked at Malory with a grumpy little pout before plopping down in the chair next to her. She immediately switched her language to the Old Tongue.

"Why are you hear again?" she asked. "How did you get in? That door was locked and shielded by Daemon. I even set a certain Craft spell on the locks."

Malory looked confused. "You put a spell on it? Impossible. But if your talking about your second class lock, I simply pick-locked it."

Jaenelle paled visibly, but she didn't say anything. She took a minute to fluff her hair while she thought. She also twirled her wedding ring absently. Daemon sat down next to her and gently massaged her shoulders again.

"What is she saying?" he asked. Jaenelle looked at him and shook her head.

"She pick-locked the door and then just walked in. Your shields didn't stop her or anything. Neither did my Craft."

It was Daemon's turn to pale before nodding weakly. Jaenelle just kept fluffing her hair. Malory, feeling awkward once more, stood form her chair.

"I won't stay if you don't want me here. I was just a little curious. I guess I was just... I don't know. I'm leaving." Malory started to leave the kitchen, but Daemon was on her fast, speaking furiously and grabbing her wrist. Shocked and irritated, Malory curled her hand into a fist and punched him as hard as she could in his face. Daemon, caught off guard, was struck and fell backwards. He caught his balance before looking up, feeling himself starting to rise to the killing edge. The only thing that stopped him was Jaenelle's simple call of his name. Daemon stopped and looked at her.

"She's no threat to anyone," Jaenelle said. "When she was leaving, she wasn't leaving to plan something bad. She was confused." She turned to Malory and took the girl's wrist gently. There was a small bruise beginning around it.

Daemon, getting the sleepy look in his eyes, turned and left the room before his killing edge rose again.

"What the hell did I do?" Malory hissed at Jaenelle.

Jaenelle shook her head. "Daemon's always defensive of me. He's a Warlord Prince. When you were leaving, he thought you were going to someone who could use you to hurt us. You did get through his Black shields after all. To him, that's a threat to me he needs to get rid of."

Malory looked at her wrist, confused and frightened. Jaenelle spotted her look and smiled weakly. "If it makes you feel better," she said, "You don't hit like most of the girls here. You would have given him a black eye." Jaenelle then turned her attention to the bandaging on Malory's hands. "Where did you get these?" she asked, starting to unwrap them.

Malory snapped her hand out of Jaenelle's grip quickly. She started to redo the bandages. "When I'm pissed, I get a little violent. I sort of hit other things like walls and trees and stuff to keep from hitting people. That's all."

Jaenelle looked to be in deep thought again, her brows pinched together.

"Go back to your home and sleep tonight. Come back tomorrow if you still want to learn. Not at night, though. Daemon's already grumpy and now I'll need to calm him down." Jaenelle pat the girl's hand before withdrawing.

Malory nodded. She turned on her heel and headed back to the door. She slipped inside and closed it behind her, locking it firmly. She turned on her flashlight again and kept going until she was back in her own room. Abbi was still sleeping. The clock showed that she had been gone for two minutes. Malory was too tired to try and figure out why the clock only showed she'd been gone for two minutes when she was sure she'd been gone a couple of hours. She fell into bed next to Abbi and let sleep finally take her.

Jaenelle looked at Daemon and snuggled up next to him again. "She's not really that bad," she assured him. "She's just confused and curious and not sure which side to take. She also displays some... traits that point in a certain direction."

Daemon frowned. "Direction?" he asked, not sure he really wanted to hear it quite yet.

Jaenelle nodded her head. "She describes how violent she can be when she's upset. She displays care for females that's very strong. She displayed that trait the first time she was here, though, when she said she _felt_ like I should be resting. She seems like a... Warlord Prince..." She waited while Daemon absorbed that piece of information.

"Impossible," he muttered. "She isn't really male. She's not even blood! She's just... something else."

Jaenelle spoke carefully in her darkest voice, "So am I."

Daemon gulped and kissed Jaenelle's hair. She was right, and he needed to accept that. He sighed. "Alright, so what are you doing about it?"

Jaenelle sighed. "She's going to learn about us. I may even teach her the language so no one kills each other. I'm just afraid she'll bring others, and we don't really know what her kind are like..."

"No one does," Daemon reminded her. "We'll find out through her."


	3. The Third Ritual

**I own nothing from the Black Jewels Trilogy [though I wish I did].**

Malory growled and threw the notebook into the wall. "I just don't get it!" she snapped at Jaenelle. "It's impossible to get this language. Everything here sounds like Greek to me!" When Malory looked up at a very confused Jaenelle, she figured she should explain. "Greece is an old country on my realm. It's had a strong government, and it's systems are older than our country alone. It's filled with mythology and tales that simply fascinate me and... I'm talking to much. We should try the phrase again."

Jaenelle simply nodded and picked up the notebook, slightly fascinated herself. She didn't say anything as she kept instructing Malory in the language at the Keep. She had puzzled over how to move the door so she wouldn't keep showing up at Cassandra's altar, but Jaenelle was still stuck. She fiddled with the Twilight's Dawn jewel hanging around her neck, now in a necklace that had once held her old Ebony jewel. She had attempted to get into Malory's mind earlier to try and teach her the language, but Malory's mind couldn't be pried open because Malory thought it felt _too weird_.

The barriers in the mind were set up the same way it was in the Blood. Malory could choose to let her in, but Jaenelle simply couldn't open the mind like she thought she could. She figured asking Daemon may help, it may just be the power of Twilight's Dawn wasn't enough, but she knew things were still sticky between Malory and Daemon. She thought of other people the girl may trust, but only Lucivar came to mind. Both had arrogance in common when neither of them were frustrated at something, and both had tempers to match. Maybe the two would find some common ground if they simply got to know each other...

There was also Daemonar. He had a birthright Red jewel. While she thought out the different lines of thought, she kept her ears open on Malory's pronunciation. When she said something wrong, Jaenelle tapped the table with her fingers gently. Malory would then fix her pronunciation and the lesson would continue like normal. So far, Malory had learned much of the language, but not enough to get by on her own if she needed to. Jaenelle started to fiddle with Twilight's Dawn again. This time, Malory caught the nervous fidgeting.

"Is that diamond important or something?" She asked. It sparkled a little, but she could closely relate it to a diamond easily. Jaenelle looked baffled. "The necklace. It's a diamond, right?" Malory asked.

"What's a... _diamond_?" Jaenelle asked, letting the unusual word slide off her tongue. It felt strange, and she'd never heard it before. "This is Twilight's Dawn. It's my new Jewel."

Malory looked even more confused. "It's a diamond. I have one in my own bedroom on a bracelet I got as a birthday present once. It looks almost exactly like that, almost cut the same too."

Jaenelle looked more baffled. "Did you bring it with?"

Malory shook her head no. "I keep it in my bedroom. It's sort of special, and I don't want to lose it."

"Take me to your room. I'd like to see it." Jaenelle extended a hand and prepared to catch the Gray wind. It was the darkest she could go so far, and she was constantly testing the winds. It was as if she were building her power up to ride whatever wind she wanted again. Malory gulped and grabbed Jaenelle's hand, feeling that smothering air she always did when Jaenelle was 'wrapping' her for protection. She hated traveling on what Jaenelle called The Winds.

In no time, they found themselves at Cassandra's altar. She'd gotten so used to traveling back and forth, it's almost as if there was no time at all between jumps. They entered through her doorway, and Jaenelle used witch fire to help Malory find the hole in her closet still behind the picture of Elaine. This would have been the first time that Malory would have let Jaenelle, or anyone from this world, into her room.

Malory nudged the picture aside and stepped in before Jaenelle, opening her closet door and peaking out to make sure no one was waiting for her. Lately, her family had noticed her frequently disappearing into her room. They were starting to get worried, and Malory didn't need any talks at the moment.

She closed the closet door behind Jaenelle, hoping she didn't look at the picture she'd painted of Elaine all bright smiles and happy faces. She watched as Jaenelle assessed Malory's mess of a bedroom. She also looked in a mirror and fluffed her hair, a habit Malory recognized as a way to help Jaenelle think deeply. Malory went to the jewelry box she'd hidden under her bed and pulled it out. She took hold of the diamond bracelet her grandmother had given Elaine before she died, and she remembered how Elaine had given it to her to _keep safe and secret_. Like it was a secret that the two had been so close to each other during Elaine's final days. Malory sniffed a moment before presenting the bracelet before Jaenelle.

Jaenelle examined the bracelet and felt the familiar power underneath the cool exterior. This Jewel was cut into a large square and held by a small crown of metal on the bracelet. The metal that held it had funny etchings in the sides. Each etching was unfamiliar and unusual.

"What are these?" Jaenelle asked, gesturing toward the etchings. Malory looked a little confused.

"They're runes for wisdom and enlightenment. The woman who gave this bracelet, my grandmother, she put them in there herself and said that diamonds always held more power and influence than what we're led to believe." Malory traced her finger along the designs, feeling the old feeling of reassurance and confidence that she knew what to do every other time she did so. Jaenelle saw something different, though. She could sense the power running through the runes and into Malory's veins. The power was enough influence to have equal power to a Yellow Jeweled witch.

Malory slid the bracelet on her wrist and clasped it there. "We should go back. I need to learn the language and be home in time for dinner." She grinned and started to lead Jaenelle back through the opening until they were in Cassandra's kitchen again. Before they had gone through the hole in the closet, though, Jaenelle had a small glimpse of the picture there.

"Did you paint that picture?" she asked Malory. Malory immediately withdrew into herself a little.

"Yeah. It was a long time ago." With that, Jaenelle could see that Malory wouldn't say anymore. With her best not-sure-but-game smile, she grabbed Malory's wrist.

"We're going somewhere before we learn other things. We need to see my brother Lucivar and pry your brain open." Jaenelle started to wrap power around Malory again to keep the girl from getting hurt, but the power of the runes was different this time. They changed from a more gentle power to a more rough wall of power. Jaenelle gave another weak smile before they jumped onto the Gray winds heading to Ebon Rhi.

**In Ebon Rhi**

Daemonar stretched his wings wide and his arms, reveling in the strong winds that were already floating him upwards. His mother watched him, smiling. Marian was so glad that Daemonar was lucky enough to have his wings. She remembered how close she was to losing hers. She and Daemonar were waiting for Lucivar to return from the Hall back home. Business with the High Lord was normally longer than this, but Daemonar was turning fifteen soon. There was a party to plan, and she hoped to warn Lucivar before finally spilling her guts to Jaenelle.

"When's dad going to be home?" he asked Marian again. His mother simply shook her head.

"In most cases, he's gone for a couple of days. Today? He said he'd be home early with his present for you. I already know what it is." She winked at her son, who stared at her with pure son-loving-his-mother contempt. She grinned even wider when a shadow of wings fell over her son. Lucivar landed with a classic Eryan war blade in one hand, and his signature arrogant grin was on his face. Daemonar eyed the blade at first with envy, then his eyes widened as he looked at his mother in pleasant surprise. Marian nodded. Lucivar handed the blade to his son.

"If you do anything stupid with that, I'll personally beat the shit out of you after your mother," Lucivar said. "Don't forget to clean it before putting it away." Daemonar grinned with his father's arrogance and waved a hand before running off to practice. Lucivar looked at Marian before approaching her next.

"Yes I'm telling Jaenelle. If I don't, she'll use those pretty new nails Surreal did to scratch my eyes out," Marian said, still sitting comfortably. Lucivar nodded before scooping his wife up.

"When are planning to have another?" he asked, referring to having another child. After Daemonar turned five, they decided to wait until he was a little older for another child. Marian gave Lucivar a proud look.

"What do you mean 'when'?" she asked, letting her hand wrest on her stomach protectively. Lucivar picked up the signal and grinned widely before groaning. He remembered Marian's last pregnancy. This one might not be any better. Marian, as if reading her own cue, grinned widely and kissed Lucivar gently.

"Don't worry," she said. "I swear I won't throw anything at you. Just don't"-

"Don't fuss to much," Lucivar finished for her. He suddenly set her down and kissed her cheek, ushering her carefully inside. "Jaenelle's coming," he said simply.

Marian looked confused. "Should I tell her about Daemonar's birthday?"

"She has someone else with her," Lucivar muttered, nudging her inside again. Despite Marian's slight struggling, he was able to shut the door when he heard his name called. He didn't want his pregnant wife caught up in the middle of something bad in case this other visitor wasn't friendly. Lucivar whistled to signal he was in the back.

Jaenelle brought Malory around the back. Malory could vaguely remember Lucivar, but she remembered only seeing him the first time she visited. He also remembered her. He also remembered Daemon coming in with a black eye the second time she had visited. Daemon had said this girl could hit...

"What did you guys need?" Lucivar asked. He waited while Jaenelle translated to Malory what he'd just said and then watched Jaenelle fiddle with Twilight's Dawn nervously. His sister was never nervous to ask him for something unless she was sure it might be dangerous.

"I can't open her mind, and she has a difficult time opening it," Jaenelle finally said, gesturing to Malory. "I was thinking you may... I don't know... open it for us. Even she wants to try, but she says it's too strange."

Malory looked at Lucivar after Jaenelle translated every word. She ran a hand through her short, curly brown hair, eyes showing fascination and paranoia at the same time. Lucivar frowned and shook his head.

"If she wants to open her mind, she could do it herself," Lucivar pointed out calmly.

"Except she doesn't understand. We've been given these gifts from birth. We can take this ability for granted, but people like her need more training." Jaenelle started to fiddle with her wedding ring. "I think my Jewel is simply preventing me from opening her mind by force. Not because I'm not powerful enough, but mainly because I hated prying people open as a child. It's as if Twilight's Dawn would mimic what I like and dislike and make that a basic for what's possible and impossible."

Lucivar noted this and finally shook his head yes. "I'll only do it if she's okay with it." He nodded toward Malory.

Malory had a small semblance of understanding enough to say, "Help me." Lucivar's jaw dropped a moment. She hadn't spoken the Old Tongue then. She was speaking the common language here. Lucivar nodded and put both hands on her mind, carefully locating the barriers. He was shocked by how similar the barriers between the human mind was so similar to that of the Blood.

He was able to pry the first few barriers open. Jaenelle was keeping her own senses open and helped to spread the rest of the information through the brain as much as possible. When Lucivar reached a barrier he judged to be the Opal barrier, he finally felt some resistance. He could feel the alien touch of his Jewels in her brain bothering her.

"Jaenelle, hurry!" he muttered, feeling a strain on his Jewels to keep the barriers open just long enough. When he felt Jaenelle slowly retreat from Malory's mind, he let the barriers fall close.

Malory, the whole time, had felt nothing but extreme pain and dizziness. Her head hurt by the end of it, but she had new information in her mind that flowed as if it had been born there. She reached into her head and pulled out the phrases carefully.

"Thank you," she said in the common language. "Thank you... Lucivar." She rubbed her head, still feeling a lingering ache. Jaenelle, obviously worried but still satisfied at the progress, took Malory's hand and led her into Lucivar's home. Marian was in the kitchen, waiting for an explanation. When she saw Malory, she inched back a few feet. Malory looked at the woman and felt the throb in her brain start again. As long as she stared at the floor, the throbbing died to a dull sting in the back of her skull.

Jaenelle stood next to Marian and said, "I already know that Daemonar's birthday is coming. We should celebrate it at the Keep. This is Malory, by the way."

Jaenelle started to leave the kitchen before Marian caught her wrist. "What is she?" Marian asked. "She's... not blood. She's also not landed. Her power is the same as my birthright right now, but she wears a jewel looking exactly like yours..." The look in Jaenelle's eyes cut her off enough. No. Marian wouldn't be afraid because this girl was unfamiliar.

"She has a headache, so I'm going to get Papa to come here to not only say happy birthday to his grandson, but to make the tea we normally have for head aches. He never did give me that recipe..." She left the kitchen, and Marian and Malory, just as Daemonar ran out from the practice clearing. He spotted Jaenelle and ran to greet her.

"Aunty Jay!" he cried, waving his weapon around. Jaenelle stared at it a moment, fighting her mind and body to relax. Every time she saw a weapon in another male's hand, it always caused a defensive trigger in her. Daemonar would never intentionally hurt her, though.

"Hey Daemonar!" She called, running to meet him and a now excited Tassle.

**Daemonar won't let me play fetch with his new toy!** Tassle whined. Jaenelle snickered and scratched Tassle gently behind his ears.

"You wouldn't want to play with that toy," she said simply before looking up at Daemonar.

"I thought I felt you here! Dad didn't come get me though. He also took off for some business in town..." He felt himself stiffen and ready for an attack. He was a Warlord Prince to took protecting the females in his family as seriously as his father. The psychic scent in the house was incredibly alien and unfamiliar. Jaenelle picked up on it right away.

"Leash it, Daemonar," she commanded calmly. Daemonar was able to rein it in enough as Jaenelle guided him toward his house.

When both of them entered the kitchen, Malory and Marian were both giggling and talking excitedly. Somehow, both of them had managed to get along.

Daemonar, still defensive, edged around the kitchen to his mother's side. Marian stopped laughing long enough to hug her son. "Don't forget to clean that before putting it away," she said. "Also, this is Malory. She's your aunt's new student."

Malory became just as edgy and defensive the moment both of them locked eyes. Malory was on her feet, stiff and in a stance meant for an attack, and Daemonar clutched his blade a little harder. Both of them stared each other down. Malory's power started to rise to Red Jewels to match his own, and none of them noticed Jaenelle ushering Marian out of the room. Both females were baffled by Malory's sudden rise in power, but Jaenelle knew how to deal with it.

Jaenelle stood between them and placed one hand on Daemonar's chest and another on Malory's shoulder. "Both of you, leash it now. Marian's terrified."

Both of them stopped an unconscious rise to the killing edge. Underneath that, Malory could feel a smothering retreat as she felt Jaenelle wrap enough power around the both of them to shield them. Malory backed off and sat back down in her chair. Daemonar vanished his weapon to the weapon's room before turning his back.

"Ass," Malory muttered.

Daemonar's reply made Malory's jaw drop.

Malory's irritated reply gave Daemonar the same reaction. After that, somehow the two were able to smile weakly at each other before Daemonar disappeared into the weapon's room to clean and store his new blade.

Malory looked at Jaenelle. "What's his problem?" she asked, standing and pacing out of the kitchen. She walked to the nearest field she saw with someone strong enough to hit. Jaenelle followed her, keeping a careful eye on her. She called Tassle with them, who was still waiting on the porch. That much power had bothered him, and he was now a little scared of Malory.

Malory stumbled her way to the practice field that Daemonar was just practicing in. She took a hit at a near by tree used for target practice, hitting as hard as she could. The bark cut through her bandages and bruised her skin. She took another hit. Then another. She kept hitting until her frustration was out of her. Her knuckles bled, and she was sure a few of them were broken again. She took a few more hits before walking away from Jaenelle, who had paled from across the field. Tassle, worried for the girl, started to follow her back up to the house.

Marian was already on the porch with Malory stormed past her and into the kitchen again. She sat back down in a chair and reached for her backpack on her back before remembering she had forgotten to bring it. She frowned and looked at her bleeding hands, deciding to ignore it until they stopped.

Marian, on the other hand, was already rifling through her cupboards before finding the one with bandages in it. She tossed them to Malory, who caught them easily. "Thank you," she said to Marian before peeling off the bandages on her knuckles.

Jaenelle gasped at the scars as she entered the kitchen. She settled to watch Malory wrap her hands in clean bandages and wondered if she could do anything for scars that old. She looked at Malory's haunted look, a look Jaenelle remembered having, and decided it would be a waste of time. It was more than just a physical scar to Malory. It was something... emotional. In the heart and mind.

When Malory finally finished wrapping her hands, Jaenelle took both of them in her own and started to heal them. Malory didn't fight. She glared as Daemonar, who had finished cleaning and storing his blade, entered the kitchen and stood close to this mother.

"What did she do to herself," Daemonar asked Jaenelle.

"She hit the trees in your practice field until she wasn't pissed anymore," Jaenelle said simply.

"Weird," Daemonar muttered.

Malory glared at him. "That's what I am, apparently. Not that some thick-headed male would understand!" she snapped at him. She ripped her hand's from Jaenelle's and was about to take off again when she felt Daemonar's hand clasp around her wrist.

Irritation and fear caused her to whirl around with her foot and aim for his balls. He had a split second to grab her ankle first.

"You just try and find out what I'd understand. If you haven't noticed, my aunt is the strangest thing on two feet... sometimes four... no offense," he amended. Jaenelle sighed and shook her head.

"None taken. Even I know how weird I am." Jaenelle stood and pried Malory from Daemonar's grip.

Daemonar let go and glared. "You can keep that mouth of yours in check. I don't take attitude from a bitch."

Malory glared fury and grabbed the nearest thing to her – there was a frying pan sitting on the table – and chucked it at Daemonar. Daemonar curled in his wings just in time for the frying pan to hit the wall instead of him. Marian nearly burst out laughing at the coincidence. She'd played this scene out before.

The difference was that Daemonar wasn't interested in her. Not that she'd noticed, anyway. Chances were it might happen, though, if she kept her eyes peeled and encouraged him.

She remembered talking with Malory. Malory was a slice of sweet and feisty all wrapped up into one. Marian remembered how easily Malory could get along with someone, and she could see how she would easily defend someone too, even if it was just herself.

Daemonar growled and stalked out of the room, snatching the frying pan to take his anger out on instead of the girl. Malory, confused but still pissed, ripped from Jaenelle's hold and stalked back outside to sit on the porch.

"What just happened?" Jaenelle asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Marian's amused look.

"A repeat," Marian applied. She grabbed a basket of eggs. "Want to try cooking again?"


	4. The Fourth Ritual

**I own nothing from Black Jewels Trilogy [though I wish I did].**

Jaenelle squealed for joy when she finished peeling the egg and splitting it apart. Somehow, she'd managed to boil eggs. Marian looked as overjoyed too, and Lucivar looked confused. Daemonar was confused by his father's confusion, and Daemon and Saetan stared in amusement. Saeten cleared his throat and kissed his daughter's forehead.

"Wonderful, witch-child! I'm going to have to run to a meeting soon, though," he said, kissing her forehead once more. He then left the house to catch the winds.

"Shoot!" Jaenelle gasped. "I hope he took his tonic this morning."

"Sweetheart, he probably did. He's a wise man." Daemon curled his arms around her waist, pulling her close for a kiss that made Marian's cheeks burn. Lucivar contemplated doing the same thing, but stealing Daemon's thunder was a dangerous enough game as it is. He chuckled and watched Daemonar's mouth drop, though, amused at his own son's reaction. Jaenelle started to blush too, but not from embarrassment.

"Let's keep it nice and clean here, Daemon," Lucivar finally said, watching while the two regained some composure. He still chuckled, though, and elbowed Daemonar. "Thought about doing that to a girl yet?" he teased, watching Daemonar's reaction turn from shocked to thoughtful. He immediately regretted asking.

"Well, sort of. She's not here, though. I even thought of staking a claim..." He watched all eyes turn on him in dangerous contemplation. His eyes widened. "What?" he asked. "I don't think she'd appreciate it is all. I also don't want to die young..."

Jaenelle traded looks with Marian before both women burst out laughing. Jaenelle protectively put a hand around her stomach along with Marian. Lucivar sent a look to Daemon, who was blissfully ignorant of the move himself. Lucivar decided he would explain to Daemon exactly what Jaenelle was going through when he noticed the haunted look in his eyes. Lucivar remembered how scary it had been to see Marian pregnant, and here she was with their second child too.

Daemon still looked a little thoughtful.

"Malory?" he asked. "Why her?"

"She's probably the first girl who wasn't so terrified of me that she expressed how pissed she was. She threw a frying pan at me, you know." Daemonar looked a little harassed when he said that.

Lucivar burst out laughing this time, joining the females. Daemon looked a little confused, but he still seemed amused.

"Aren't you a little young to like girls like that?" he asked chuckling, but his eyes were still serious with thinking.

"What do you mean? I'm fifteen. Besides," Daemonar cleared his throat. The look in his eyes clearly stated what he was thinking of Malory right now as well. Both males sobered up immediately, and the women were able to turn their laughter down to hysterical giggles slipping out every few seconds.

Lucivar took hold of Daemon's shoulders and started to direct him outside. "Daemon and I are going to have a talk with you about this," he said, gesturing for Daemon to follow.

"Why me?" Daemon asked, looking slightly annoyed.

"Because Saetan isn't here," Lucivar said, snorting as if it were a normal thing.

"Oh. Well, what happened to age and rank?"

"Have you forgotten that's about as existent around here as an old Terreillien queen?"

Daemon snarled a little, but it wasn't as serious as it used to be. He helped Lucivar corner Daemonar in the practice field before the boy could run away. He suddenly remembered an old memory of catching the flying terror by his leg when he was avoiding bath time and bed time. It was almost painful to watch the boy grow up.

Still...

"It's time you learned about sex," Lucivar said, not bothering to disguise the word.

A good twenty minutes later, Daemonar's jaw was dropped again, and both males were satisfied that Daemonar knew everything he needed to know so far. Then again, he didn't quite understand the Virgin Night, but for now, he wouldn't need to know if Malory wasn't a virgin. Chances are she was, but he wasn't about to ask her or help her this early in her life.

Daemon squeezed his shoulder gently before fleeing the scene, running back to Lucivar's house to get Jaenelle.

"Are you even joking?" Daemonar asked. He looked at the strange face Lucivar made before sighing. "Right. You don't joke on this kind of thing. What if she's... you know..."

Lucivar chuckled. "I'm glad that's something you worry about. You're going to worry about her a lot if she provokes you this much right now. Except it's weird you don't have a protective need yet. Maybe she just isn't the right one."

"Dad!" Daemonar said. "It's her. You can feel it, right? When you look at mom? The drive? The need to protect, but I'm just saying. It's not the same with her as it is with other blood. She's... different."

"We know," Lucivar said. His eyes looked clouded with thought for a moment before a slapped a hand on Daemonar's back.

"Time to take you to a Red Moon house, right?" he joked, his grin wide and arrogant. Daemonar punched his father in the chest. They rough-housed until Marian called them for supper.

When both males approached the house, Jaenelle's and Malory's smells were inside the kitchen.

Jaenelle and Malory were both wearing borrowed aprons from Marian, and Jaenelle's golden hair was pulled back in a hair tie now. Malory, who's curly brown hair was still short like a boy's, but she had a handkerchief around her hair to keep it out of her face. Jaenelle laughed at something she said in the Old Tongue, and the girls kept mixing something in a bowl.

Marian held another bowl filled with something else she was mixing. When both males cleared their throat, all three eyes shot up. Jaenelle's were curious, Marian's were worried, and Malory's were downright hostile. Lucivar looked at the girls and started to flee himself. Three cooking women, one of them a hearth-witch, were terrifying enough. Daemonar stood his ground thought and hugged his mother.

He hesitated before asking Jaenelle, "Auntie Jay, what are you guys making?"

Jaenelle grinned and threw an arm around Malory, opening her mouth to make an excuse. She had let craft float the bowl up to the table unthinkingly, and immediately, Malory and Marian were protective and snarling at her. Jaenelle blinked before letting her hand wrap around her stomach protectively.

"Sorry," Jaenelle squeaked. It didn't stop Daemonar from picking up right away.

"You're pregnant!" he hissed, running to help Jaenelle. Malory snarled at him too, putting up her fists in a defensive stance. Daemonar backed off slowly, but he growled at her. Marian hissed at both of them before taking the bowl Malory was still holding.

"Both of you," Jaenelle said, calm and cool. "Leash it."

Daemonar and Malory both stopped glaring at each other to glare at her.

"No, I didn't tell Daemon yet," she admitted under their questioning glances.

"Why not?" Malory said. "He'll want to know."

"I know," Jaenelle said sheepishly. "I just don't want him to worry."

"Honey," Malory said, "You're doing all the wrong things for the right reason. You need to tell him. Don't make me tell him myself."

Jaenelle recognized the comment in a sort of reminiscence before looking irritated. "I'll tell him when he's not so stressed."

Daemonar looked hostile himself. Marian looked disappointed. "I'll tell him tonight," Jaenelle said.

Daemonar and Malory and Marian still glared. "Alright! Geez. I'm going."

Jaenelle looked thoroughly harassed by the time she was on a carriage on the winds.

"How did you know?" Daemonar asked his mother. Marian shrugged.

"I'm pregnant too," Marian said. Daemonar looked fascinated for a moment, reaching for his mother to hug her tightly. "Lucivar thinks it's going to be a sister," she whispered in his ear. "So does Jaenelle and Damon and Saetan."

Daemonar smiled. "Who cares?" he asked. "That's a little sibling for me!"

He swung his mother in a circle before letting her back down on her feet. He directed his gaze toward Malory now. "How about you?" he asked. "How did you know?"

Malory shrugged. "My mother hugged her belly when she was pregnant with my sister too."

"You have a sister?" Daemonar asked, fascinated again.

"I have an older brother. My little sister died young, though," she said, her eyes haunted and terrified. Daemonar itched to embrace her again, but he figured the stiff stance she held wasn't one for inviting touching of any kind.

"How?" he asked hesitantly.

"She died because... some bastard raped and murdered her while I was being too stupid to help!" Malory exclaimed, feeling unnaturally open on the subject. She flung the bowl at Daemonar, who caught it with craft to keep the batter – cake batter, he confirmed – from spilling over. He set it down gently on the table and moved to embrace her. She fought and hit and punched him until he had his arms gently around her. Then all she did was cry for the first time in years over her little sister.

"She was way too young," Malory sobbed. "She was only seven! She was my sweet little sister I didn't protect! She's..." Malory started to cry hysterically, unable to stop herself even when her breath was shuddering out of her. Since Malory had started to hyperventilate, Daemonar ushered her into a seat.

The look on his mother's face was as haunted as his. They both understood rape and beatings very well. Even Lucivar understood it. If Jaenelle were here, she'd be in a cold rage right now. Ever since her black power wasn't really enough to fling the world upside down, she would have violently threw things until she was calm again.

Malory just sat in the chair and cried, face in her hands. When she finally felt no more tears stinging her eyes, she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Marian tried to pretend she didn't see that, but the clean streak in her started to search for a handkerchief in her apron pocket. She pulled out a dish cloth she decided to wash later and handed it to Malory. Malory accepted the kind gesture and wiped her nose, sniffing a little more under the scratchy cloth.

Daemonar just stood there, itching to hold her close again. She wasn't alright. She would never be alright with that in her head. _She blames herself for it too... like Auntie Jay._ He hated thinking this girl was anything like Jaenelle by being so haunted. No girls any age should think like that.

Marian hugged Malory and rubbed her shoulders gently. She was cooing gently in her ear, Malory was a little embarrassed that she had cried in front of someone, and Lucivar had strolled into the kitchen. He had felt the dark, haunting energy so similar to Jaenelle's, but it wasn't. It was Malory. The bracelet on her wrist shimmered, the runes glowing a little bit. Lucivar stared at it before glaring at his son.

"This better not be your fault," he hissed, grabbing Daemonar by the shoulders roughly and ushering him outside.

"Dad!" Daemonar complained, breaking free to walk away to the training field. He called in his new war blade and started going through warm ups while he walked, feeling his frustration slowly work its way out through his weapon. Lucivar stood aside a minute, letting his son work out his frustration.

When Daemonar had finished warm ups, he called in the equipment to clean the weapon, watching it intensely. "She's so much like Auntie Jay," he muttered, feeling his voice drop to a near whisper. Lucivar sat next to his son. "Even some experiences they had were... similar. She acts like... like me! Like if I were to let someone hurt mom or Auntie Jay or any other queen in the coven, I'd blame myself for the rest of my life."

"You mean she acts as protective and passionate as a Warlord Prince?" Lucivar asked. "Because she isn't. She's a girl." Still, Lucivar could remember very clearly how Malory had just _known_ how some things could be off. She had just somehow known that Jaenelle was weaker during her Moon's Blood. She had known that Jaenelle was pregnant and that using Craft could cause a miscarriage, and she'd known that Daemon, despite the fact that those two hated each other thoroughly, would like to know about the child.

"She doesn't exactly act like one right away, right?" Daemonar observed carefully. "It's as if this Realm has awakened a sort of sense in her. Some sort of trigger. What do you think?" He looked up at his father, hoping the answer came dancing out of him. He knew better, of course, but that was his father who had seen and done more than him. There was always some hope that Lucivar would have the answer.

"Good luck staking a claim on that one, kiddo," Lucivar said, grinning arrogantly again. He jumped to his feet and didn't bother to ask what "experiences" Jaenelle and Malory had in common. If they were anything near the same, he would have been hunting in Malory's Realm for an asshole to skin.


End file.
